Caged Souls
by Bolt
Summary: Sabretooth. Life as a Mercenary and the beginning of a beautiful enmity. New CHAPTER FIVE - enter Logan and the rest of the X-Men - Please review.
1. Default Chapter

Caged souls   
Discl: Creed is not mine (sob!) - no money. I don't do accents or slang, so use your imagination.   
Char: Sabretooth and others.   
In short: Mercenary life and the beggining of a beautiful enemity.   
Continuity: None that I can think of. Happening circa 2300   
Rated: not sure, some language, explicit violence.   
  
=====   
Cold wind ruffled his hair and he took in deeply the scent of green. His nostrils flared as he also scented the prey, invisible but to his keen senses. It had been a nice evening, first tracking and then, after a good hour stalking, he was at about the right distance from unsuspecting dinner. The job and his teammates were but forgotten while his senses and his mind focused only in the hunt. It had been ages since he last felt so strongly in his element and he was enjoying it with every muscle and every pore. He shifted in his crouching position just slightly, feeling the power going to his leg muscles. His eyes were fixed on the small animal as he prepared to make the jump. He licked his lips at the thought of raw, fresh meat. *Grace!* he thought smiling wide.   
  
*skkk* Sabretooth? ...* his earpiece shouted.   
  
!!!! .. the prey took off like a dart up in the trees and he roared in frustration. He would have to start again now, the small animal being up in the thinner branches where he could not reach it on account of his weight. Getting a decent meal was proving to be almost impossible around those idiots back at the camp.They had also just proven without a doubt that they had a major death wish.   
  
He stood up and stretched hard in order to ease off the tension that had built up in his back and leg muscles for the leap. A deep rumble began to grow in his chest as he started his way back to the camp with that elastic graceful trot so common in big cats and Victor Creed. The interruption had seriously pissed him off. *I might even have myself some merc for dinner!* A big ugly grin appeared in his face, the kind of grin that made grown hard men run like hell the other way, not that was any good, ever.  
  
The deep cold jungle around him was dark and there was barely any space to move. Numberless shades of dark green in a wall of vegetation blocked his view but his other senses were overwhelmed by the variety around him. Crisp sounds and scents so rich and clean he could almost taste all of them in his mouth. This was definitely HIS kind of place. Cold, rain or snow didn't trouble him and the place was so rich in life and so unaccessible that he could probably live in peace here, top of the food chain too. It all came to keeping undetected, which was hard since there were so many different bastard after his gorgeous ass. Bad for business too, he needed to be reachable. Ah.., too bad.   
  
Upon reaching the camp he slowed his pace and started circling the group of men around the fire, finally positioning himself behind the idiot that had spooked his dinner. Except for Rimes, the rest of this group he could easily deal with in about ten seconds flat, or even less, he figured. In his book this was bordering pathetic for a group of mercs. But then again, this was supposed to be an easy job, no fuss and good pay: what they called a "holiday" job. The high numbers were apparently on account of being able to spread and cover more terrain in the shortest time since their employers were in a hurry.  
  
=========   
  
*What are you, completely OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND!!?* Raims felt like shooting the guy himself on the spot. The man smiled cockily. Oh shit, and I thought this was going to be an easy job!. Things had gone smoothly for days, now he's going to be in one hell of a mood when he comes back. Perfect!.   
  
*Well, he is coming, isn't he?..*   
  
*Shut up, you moron!* Raims gave the others a look. They all knew each other from other jobs. A good group of old pros, calm and efficient if not very fast, except for this one, that had joined them at the last minute when Barry Olsen couldn't make it on account of a broken leg from his last job.   
  
*Well, he's Barry's old partner* answered Sugar to Raims implicit question *don't know about the "old" part though, considering what he obviously -doesn't- know* he added, casually distancing himself from the man.   
  
*But..* he never ended the phrase.   
  
*GRAAAHHhhh!* Everyone froze in place as Creed came out of nowhere and the man fell to the ground with his spine visibly broken in two. Blood quickly drenched the vegetation around him *Aj! he tastes like shit!* Victor muttered to himself licking his claws and spitting back out with a grimace. The man in the floor convulsed and his eyes glazed. *What was he on, steroids?*. Everybody kept a tight silence, carefull not to move an inch.   
  
*WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!* he hissed to Raims face   
  
*The man is sending us one of his seconds* he tried to keep a steady and calm voice. Don't make firm eye contact you fool, remember what happened to that other guy, what was his name?.   
  
He relaxed -some- as Victor walked away towards the shelter and picked up a bottle of water to wash his hands of the -foul tasting- blood. Well, all in a day's work with the famous Sabretooth, he said to himself, what the hell was I thinking when I signed up for this? He sighed mentally, trying to focus on the BIG pay check he expected to get for this job, and almost said a prayer. A weary look around confirmed he was not alone in either.   
  
==   
  
*I thought you were six* the figure said in an icy tone.   
  
*We had some problems* started Raims *lost one..*   
  
*Never mind* interrupted the other.   
  
Creed frowned from across the path taking in the scent of the newcomer.  
  
The figure regarded him in particular for a second and then addressed Raims again *Have you found the place yet?*   
  
*No. I don't expect we will find it for a few days*   
  
*Fine* the shrouded figure said, and retreated to the shelter, leaving the five men to spend the night in the open air, not that there was ever a question or sharing.   
  
Raims exhaled in relief, aloud and wrapped himself in his sleeping bag. Creed gave him a curious look. *So who's this?*   
  
*Eh..? Oh, where have you been, man? This is the guy they call "F", and no, is not a joke* he said noticing Creed's grin.   
  
*F for what then?*   
  
*F for Fear*   
  
Something dawned on Creed *Oh, yeah* He smiled to himself. Boy o boy, the price must be a very juicy one.   
  
=======   
  
Creed was particularly antisocial when working. Not that he was social at any time, really. He was especially irritated this time because he felt at a loss on things happened in the last year. He had been "out of touch" for that much, as his contact for this job had had the audacity (or the stupidity) of telling him. In fact, he had been alternately in a cell or heavily sedated and strapped to a table at Sinister's lab. He had finally escaped not too long ago, leaving something to be remembered by... that would teach the bastard not to mess with Victor Creed!. Nevertheless, he had heard a few loose comments while there, and he would have to figure out the rest as he went, he figured.   
  
The newcomer was reputed a lot of things, but a nice guy he wasn't. The assumed gender was a manner of speach. Even after a good look you couldn't really tell if there was a male or a female body under all those rags, but the scent had puzzled Victor ... Mmm.. no, this was definitely not human, or at least not entirely human. Gender was also confusing. This was a first for him, not being able to "read" a person by the scent.   
  
The sorroundings being breathtakingly beautiful, it could have been a lovely dinner around the fire in other circumstances. In the present state of things it was just a gloomy circle of men eating half heated beans. Fear was oblivious of it all, standing out of the circle of the fire, staring out to the impenetrable jungle. His demeanor so far had been detached and very little had been said in the past two days.  
  
Creed snorted angrily at his can of beans and threw it away. Thanks to the moron he had gutted two days ago he hadn't had a decent meal in three days and he was hungry as hell. His four companions looked up worriedly for a moment, then resumed their meal.   
  
He tried to recall what he had heard so far about this F (HA! man, this guy had a sense of humor!). He chuckled to himself, startling Sugar again who went about two shades lighter (a feat considering the man was almost an albino). Victor didn't even notice, lost in though.  
  
Vague memories of comments overheard while in the cell (or bound to the table?), something about this "Fear" reappearing after a bunch of years. He had heard about Fear before but figured it all to be mostly myth. Some old witch story to scare kids, even if the protagonist had been a real person. What he did remembered were some horror stories of more than a hundred years ago, almost immediately after the split. To complement that, Victor had blurred memories of chatter between Sinister and some minor punk about this F, as he called himself. The information about him (her?) was very unreliable, being mostly uninformed gossip and speculation. For sure he only knew that the object of this speculation, being a major leaguer, had always been in his own side of the fence, a fact that didn't go well with all those megalomaniac bozos that seemed to be popping up from everywhere like fungus ever since the human/mutant split in the early 2200s. Very dangerous a thing to be known by Fear too, a fact proven by a long series of people nobody ever heard of again, if you believed the stories, after dealing with him (her? oh, never mind! he was getting a headache out of this..).   
  
The only other thing he remember was that everyone was VERY afraid of him.   
  
Victor's ruminations did not go any further though. Fed up, he stood and started off into the green wall without a word. After an initial frozen panic, the rest of the group exhaled and relaxed in their respective positions. The standing figure turned at the noise and looked alternatively towards them and to the point where Creed had disappeared in the vegetation.  
  
*Gone hunting?* Raims asked softly and was surprised at having actually voiced it.   
  
*Good, tell him to bring some back* F's voice sounded very loud in the reigning silence.   
  
Everyone looked at Raims, their eyes very clearly declining the honor.  
  
=====   
  
*skkh We found it, sir*   
  
*Are you sure?*   
  
*Yes. Metal door covered by massive vegetation. Square lock, as we were told*   
  
*Wait for us and do nothing. We will be there in 10 minutes*   
  
*Copy*   
  
  
  
*I say, this is by far the best idea you've had so far!*   
  
*What is?*   
  
*Leaving that psycho and -well, the other psycho- with Sugar when you split the team! Man, you'll be in my last will and testament* Morales was grinning widely, at ease for the first time in two weeks. Will nodded in agreement, expressionless as ever.   
  
Raims could not help but smiling himself. He had been a mercenary for a long time, but working with Creed (this was the third time) always made him wish he had taken another line of work. Not that the man was not good, he was incredibly good, the best actually, only people tended to die in rapid succession if he got into a bad mood and you never knew what was going to set him off. Still, he had a great reputation for finishing even the most impossible jobs and ALWAYS getting paid, and that was reassuring. The group had been recruited one by one, and they had found out who were the other five upon checking in. He remembered being startled at the sight of Creed and then wondering why he should take this holiday job that was way below his level. Then again, the job was below Raims level too. He had taken it because he needed a brake, but somehow he could not imagine Creed needing a brake.  
  
They had almost missed the door in the thick vegetation. It looked old and decayed and it was completely covered in moss and leaves. Only the hollow sound produced by Will banging his metal arm against it when falling had given it away. Otherwise they would have surely missed it.  
  
The second group arrived, Creed in front, and F gave the door a thoughtful look. He searched his small pack and took a strange looking object out of it.  
  
*Get the moss out of the way* he ordered, and as Will and Morales were doing so, F paneled the whole group around him, an action that gave Raims the creeps. Victor was tense and alert too, his instinct screaming danger. Victor moved silently around and placed himself to F's left a few steps from the border of the rocks where the door was placed. Raims noticed and followed him trying to be casual about it. If fearless Sabretooth was taking cover, he was sure as hell going to get some too.  
  
*Enough* Will and Morales stepped back. *Shouldn't we be checking for security first?* asked Sugar  
  
*No need* shrugged F.   
  
Sugar gave Raims a look and noticed his movement. He frowned and a question started to form in his mind. He didn't have the time to finish.   
  
F placed the object in a depression in the door and there was a feint whirling sound. The "key" lit up in soft green and the door made a click sound and moved a few millimeters back with a jerk, the sound of air going in (*almost like opening a jar* Raims thought), then all hell came loose.   
  
======   
  
*OW!* After the world stopped spinning, F's face came into focus right in front of him, framed by the blue afternoon sky showing through a hole the green cupola above. Creed found himself on his back on the leaf covered ground about twenty meters from the place he was before, F leaning over him. A look around showed a circular area completely flattened out. F was faintly glowing. *Force field* he thought. A few steps behind him he could smell Raims and heard him moan. Sugar was impaled in a tree, a branch stomp coming out of his stomach and both legs missing, and he was screaming. Will and Morales were all but dismembered and quite dead, being the ones closest to the center of the circle of destruction, which was obviously the door. The latter had moved all the way in, or back, and was out of sight, the opening was now a gaping black hole in the rock.   
  
*Amazing* murmured F *Get up, I still have some use for you* and he started towards the opening.   
  
*Creed?* Raims voice was shaky but sounded normal *what the hell was that?!*   
  
*Some defense system, you moron* he got up, his head suddenly pulsing painfully and a wave of nausea hit him. He shook his head hard and tried to focus again.   
  
*My arm is broken* said Raims, still laying down and, unable to focus at all, he lifted his head painfully. He had not been hit dead on by the wave because he had managed to get behind Victor. Actually, it was the impact of the bigger man's body and not the explosion what had broken his arm.  
  
*You're lucky*   
  
*Fuck, yeah..* Raims groaned as he got up slowly, holding his arm to his body and having a look around trying to control the heaving.  
  
*You can say that again..* Victor shook his head again, his healing factor taking care of most of the pain in a wave of heat.   
  
*You figure Fear did it in purpose?*   
*.....*   
*Creed?*   
*....*   
*C..?   
*YES!* his mind was racing now, dead cold, the healing factor taking up all the energy that otherwise would go into blind, crimson rage. His lips curled and he snarled. Not that he minded anybody else getting killed, but he certainly didn't like to be used as meat. The kind of work he did was tricky, but there was a certain "code" to it. Some conventions were adopted between the parties to keep the business going and everyone satisfied. This kind of behavior was not acceptable in the "code" and had caught him by surprise (*you dumb ass*).  
  
Fear lifted one of the guns from the ground and put Sugar out of his misery with a single shot to the head and there was silence. He then walked into the gaping hole in the rocks ignoring the two standing men.   
Raims' expression was a blank, *a good old pro* Victor thought. He couldn't fool him though, he could smell the anger and the fear. *This looks like Showtime* he said aloud.  
  
*Yeah* Raims was wrapping his arm to immobilize it, flinching at the pain now that the adrenaline rush had stopped.  
  
They followed F inside the hidden bunker.  
  
======   
  
The interior of the bunker was smooth and featurless except for some sort of console right in the middle of the floor. There was a human body in one of the corners, wearing a sort of uniform, mummified in fetal position. Creed figured he had died around a hundred years ago, by the state of the remains. Everything was covered in shining black glasslike material, the small amount of light coming in from the outside making the surfaces reflect the three standing figures all over the place. Fear was at work in the console.  
  
The hood that had covered Fear's head all along was now hanging back. The features were fuzzy in the dim light, but clearly soft. Creed realized he was looking at a female face. Short dark blond hair and very strange eyes. Narrow to a slit, they seemed to flicker, as if changing between two different shades of dark blue, a very disturbing sight that made them look artificial. The mouth was tight, a mere line in the lower face. The scent was still a puzzle, but the flickering of the eyes gave him a clue: there were two separate scents coming together, intertwined but not mixed, and then something else which he could not grasp.   
  
He examined the figure with some attention. She seemed to be lean but strongly built. The length of shoulders, which was the only feature he had been able to appreciate under the cloak and all the apparel, had been enough for a small to medium man or a medium to large woman. Not too tall either, perhaps 1.65 or 1.7m or so. Her hands, now devoid of gloves, were big and strong, but kept some of its feminine grace.  
  
*Acknowledge* said F softly, there was a faint whirling sound again *Voice reckon* -ACKNOWLEDGED- a generated voice murmured and a screen appeared in front of F descending from the roof.   
  
*Man, this is OLD!* thought Creed rolling his eyes *Take a look at those things!*   
  
-CONFIRM VOICE RECKON-   
*Cyanea*   
  
The screen in front of Fear started flashing a hand-shaped display and she placed her hand in it flinching just slightly and a few seconds passed.   
  
-DNA RECOGNITION- -WELCOME CYANEA-  
*Voice off*   
  
Victor chuckled aloud, amused. Fear gave him a cold stare and he grinned at her, unruffled.  
  
*This is like being in a museum* he said. When does the tour start, bitch? hehehe.. She looked very pissed of. Good.  
  
*You* Fear pointed at Raims *A door will slide open on your right at the end of the room. Get into the next room.. *   
  
*I'm not going anywhere until we check for security*   
  
*There is no security left* she snapped. She was not lying, Victor could tell.   
  
*I'd rather check myself* retorted Raims   
  
*Just do it!*   
  
*Why don't you? After all, you are the one who actually knows what we are looking for*  
  
She looked in doubt, her face a mask of anger.  
  
*I will have a go* said Victor starting for the corner.   
*NO!* she ordered sharply, almost in a shout.   
  
*?...* He was surprised at the outburst.   
  
*Why not?* put in Raims   
  
*It has to be a human without mutations or the second set of traps will be triggered and the.. price destroyed* No scent of lie there either.  
  
*??.. You mean to tell me this is booby trapped against mutants? There weren't any yet when this bunker was abandoned!* he could tell by the scent and what he knew about the technology around him.  
  
*The bunker was sealed in the years of the war with the outsiders, anything not entirely human will set off the second stage of defense as the builders expected them to mimic us*  
  
*You are not human either* She turned sharply towards him and Victor picked up something very much like a growl. He could see the flicker of a smile in Raims eyes. Well, well, a bargaining situation was in the make. They might make it after all...   
  
========   
  
A year later, in a small bar in Los Angeles' suburbs.   
  
========  
  
*Raims*   
  
*Creed, glad you could make it* Here we go again. This suddenly looks like a very bad idea.   
  
*Your call* said Victor flopping into his chair and taking a swing at his beer bottle.  
  
*F*   
  
*Aw shit!* Creed said annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up again.  
  
*Not with her, just wanted you to remember the place*   
  
*... Let me guess.. you want to go back to the bunker for...??..* he looked down at him mockingly.  
  
*After all, we just took the box and left. There's bound to be something there worth going back..*   
  
*And I assume you got a piece of that bitch in a box, just so that the DNA recognition system unlocks...*   
  
*I got myself a guy that can fiddle with it and some epithelia from the floor of the plastic shelter she used.*   
  
*Spare me. NOT interested.*   
  
*I've got financing too*   
  
Victor was already half way to the door, leaving.  
  
*That doctor.. the one you mentioned ..*  
  
Creed stopped dead on his tracks and turned around. The look in his eyes frightened Raims, and he was not easily frightened. As Victor approached the table again in two impossible strides he shrank in his seat, knowing he had not even the hope of escape if Victor decided to go nuts just now, a very, very likely possibility by the looks of him.  
  
*Sinister?* Victor's voice came in a growl as he came down on Raims and stopped a few inches short of his face.  
  
*I-I was in contact with him on my last job and I told him about this one. He is willing to put the money for the expedition. He will also pay for anything we get. Handsomely too* OHMYGOD! HE IS GOING TO GUT ME NOW!!..   
  
*Is that so?* Creed's voice had become suddently calm and cold where his eyes still bore that red shimmer few people had seen and lived to remember.  
  
Raims saw the straw and grabbed at it frantically *Perhaps this could be your chance to get him, when we deliver the goods* and after we collect, he thought.  
  
The big man sat on the chair opposite to him again. Creed's eyes were looking directly at him.   
  
*We did not have the time to mark the location properly then, remember? And I figured you were the fastest way to get there anyway, besides....*   
  
*SHUTUP*   
  
*....*   
  
Victor made a grab behind him and caught a leg (some unfortunate waitress), she squealed. *Get me another of these and keep your mouth shut or you'll be wiping the floor with it* he said with a snarl. The girl clammed up, took the bottle and run. She came back with three bottles and set them gingerly on the table, securing an amused look from Victor, then she ran again.   
  
It had been a long time, he had had at least ten big jobs after that but he would ever really forget.  
  
----------  
  
END OF CHAPTER ONE  



	2. Chapter two

Caged Souls - Chapter Two  
Discl: Creed is not mine (sob!). Some known characters appearing, also not mine but Marvels. No money.   
Char: Sabretooth and others   
In short: Life as a Mercenary and the beginning of a beautiful enmity.   
Rating: not sure, some language, violence.   
  
Well, here goes the second part. THANK YOU to my reviewers (both of you!). Everyone else, PLEASE REVIEW AND MAKE ME VERY VERY HAPPY.   
  
----------------------   
  
Creed downed his second beer silently staring before him and Raims didn't dare interrupt him. He had hoped the big man would come along. Scary as he was to have around, Raims thought he was the best security for success. That and his tracking ability.   
  
What had started off a year ago as a break for him had finished being one of his worse jobs ever. The Patagonian jungle was a nightmare and most of the other men were not prepared for it and it had shown. Even worse, he had lost the whole team to their employer, which was unheard of. Creed had disappeared for a month after it was finished and they had risked not being paid at all. He remember the bloody way he sorted things out when he finally reappeared, and then they had received not only their pay but also that of the other men. In spite of the money he was adamant that he would not like to repeat the experience.   
  
He had thought about it for months. Going back and looting what was left of the bunker. It was obviously an old government bunker and sure enough worth the effort, if only in information. This could result in a very hefty retirement fund, if handled correctly, and he needed that on account of his various economic disasters of late. He knew Creed's conditions would be leonine, but even so it looked worth it. He had also kept an eye on the zone and there seemed to have been no activity whatever in the last twelve months. However, you never knew, and having Creed to deal with surprises was a relief.   
  
He looked around in the crowded bar and spotted the waitress Victor had grabbed earlier. Tiny pretty girl in red with a white apron all frills (the place had a 1950's ambiance) and hair up in a ponytail. She was talking to the barman, obviously still in a state after her first encounter with Creed. The man was looking in their direction with a frown knitting his brows together. A very bad sign. This could get ugly in no time if he was stupid enough to try and challenge the man.   
  
He turned and was startled to notice Victor was looking directly at him, no longer in thought.   
  
He mustered a *Well, are you in?* and waited.   
  
Victor had been busy for the last ten months in his usual manner. There always was someone around who wanted someone else dead. But things had quieted down lately and he was looking at a good two months without a thing to do as far as he could tell. He was OK with money, as always, since he always invested at least half of his earnings (he was quite an intelligent man, if not book-smart, and he made smart choices) but inactivity was something he loathed. What the hell, he thought. *I'm in* he said *Let's discuss the conditions*   
  
Raims noticed that the barman was approaching the table. Oh, shit. He sincerely hoped Creed was in a mood to keep a low profile today or this was going to be a mess.   
*Good evening, boys* the man said *I've some complaints about your manners. We don't want any trouble here*   
  
Victor turned towards him and Raims' hair went all up. Before the big man could speak he quickly flashed a smile to the barman and told him they were about to leave in a moment and didn't want any trouble either. It was all a misunderstanding. He caught sight of Creed from a corner of his eye and to his relief saw that he seemed to be greatly amused. That was a good sign (sort of). The big man leaned back on his chair and stretched slightly in a very catlike movement, seemingly relaxed.  
  
The girl came over behind the barman and Victor smiled at her over his shoulder. *What's the matter girl, did I spook you?* he said playfully, grinning, *don't you mind old Vic here*. His tone was caressing, like a purr, but this didn't fool Raims. He had heard the caressing tone before, just before seeing somebody being ripped open from groin to neck. The girl giggled and the man left after scowling, first at them and then at her.   
  
Victor downed the last beer. The girl approached and asked if they were having another round, smiling under Victor appreciative look. He made another slow grab without taking his eyes off hers, his long muscular arm extended and this time he got only a pinch hold of her apron. The girl tugged at it giggling and having recovered the bit of fabric, retreated into the crowd. Creed laughed softly and gave Raims a look across the table, *learn from the master* it said.   
  
*Well, where were we?* all trace of amusement in Creed's voice was gone, and they got down to business.   
  
========  
  
One year earlier, just outside the bunker.   
  
========   
  
Creed had jumped the woman while she was attacking Raims and had a good hold of her windpipe, his claws digging into her neck without rupturing anything important, so far. Raims was whimpering just outside the door, all wrapped up in a ball, his body gave out an incredible reading of fear.   
  
*You have no hope in hell to get me before I rip your throat out, BITCH!* he snarled baring his teeth. He was pinning her down with his sheer weight and so close to her face their breaths were forming a common cloud of condensation.   
  
A wave of pain hit him and right behind it a huge wave of nausea. He was overwhelmed by a huge tide of mind numbing, paralyzing fear and he roared out aloud. He was not an average man and fear and pain were old friends of his, but the level of it almost made him release his prey. He dug deeper and tensed to pull his hand back, windpipe and all, completely blinded in a paroxysm of rage. The pain and the fear left him as suddenly as they had hit. He found himself panting, nose to nose with Fear again, her eyes wide and her teeth clenched.   
  
*That will be quite enough, Sabretooth* a cold voice said and he realized they had been joined by a group of armored soldiers. All twelve guns pointing at him.   
  
Raims was up on one knee, still shaking but managed to speak *We kept our part of the bargain. Just get the bitch off us and we will leave peacefully*   
  
*LIKE HELL WE WILL!* roared Victor.   
  
*THINK man* he said in panic.   
  
Creed cooled down a bit, just enough to be able to reason again. A quick look told him he would not make it against those particular odds. Those guns could blast a huge hole right through a man, armor and all if close enough. Right. No matter how much I want to gut this cow now, the fact remains it will be my last action before I die. On the other hand, I can get a better chance later and have some time to enjoy it too.   
  
Still holding Fear by the neck like a rag doll, he grabbed the box beside her and gave the commander a short order. *You want your box, it has a price. Your call* He had to fight very hard to maintain control, rage hitting him like a tidal wave, but succeeded, and slowly started to calm down.   
  
Raims chimed in, *The deal was that we were to find the place and then help recover the goods, which we did. It was a good honest deal and a lot of people are going to be very pissed off if they find out the way it was conducted by your side. I'm sure your boss will agree with me that is a bad idea to fight this out. We can reach an agreement and then everybody can go home*   
  
The commander made a signal to his men and spoke in his comm. Raims didn't understand the language, but after a short interchange he seemed to have either reached a decision or received his orders. *Very well, then. Release the box and the warrior and you will be free to go"   
  
*Here is the deal* interrupted Creed *You provide Raims with transport to our craft. I remain here with the lady and the box firmly tugged in my loving arms and when he comes to get me I kiss the lady goodbye and make a gracious exit. We leave WITH the box and when we reach Santiago airport we leave it for you in a locker. You follow us and you get your box spread in two square miles of terrain. The alternative is that I destroy both bitch and box RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW! You have five seconds!* There was no mistaking his tone. The commander knew whom he was dealing with and nodded in assent.  
  
=========   
  
Later in Santiago international airport   
  
=========   
  
Raims was in the check-in line for the next transport to the north. After leaving the box in the locker, as agreed, they had contacted their go-between man and got from him an assurance that the money for the job was on its way. After all the happenings of the last days Raims was going to wait and see about that. All in all, he was only too happy to have made it alive.   
  
Creed had disappeared from sight. He was always in awe at how the huge man could become suddenly and completely inconspicuous. Anywhere.   
  
He shuddered at the memory of his last encounter with Fear. His stomach still contracted and he had been slightly nauseous from time to time ever since. She had not even moved! Just looked at him and hit him with whatever her powers were, right out of the blue!. He should have expected it, especially after what happened to the rest of them.   
  
He was very surprised at Creed being rather calm about the whole thing. They had hardly spoken a word to each other and after getting to the airport and choosing a locker he had lost sight of him.   
  
He went through all the motions of the check in and the boarding, his nerves soothed by the routine of it all and finally sighed in relief when they were off.   
  
=======   
  
After Raims had strapped two explosive charges to the box and left, Victor had spent three hours holding Fear by the neck. She had snarled the whole time but kept still, except for a couple of times when she had attempted to reach out again and almost lost her pretty throat. By two AM Raims had come back and he had released her. She had got up stumbling and turned around menacing. The commander had bowed to her and delivered what seemed to be a code word and she had gone cold as ice.   
  
*Sorry girl, don't have time to stay and cuddle* he said with a grin. You had to give it to her, she had guts. After the first shock there had been only the faintest trace of fear coming from her. Just enough to put her in "brave but not stupid" class, as per Victor's standards. She turned around and left, back to her master he thought.   
  
After agreeing the method and time of delivery of the precious box with the commander they started towards the airport. He was not satisfied with the turn of things, but he had a good long memory and he could wait for the next time to get things finished his way.   
  
He had also worked up a crick on his arm and another on his neck from holding the same position for the best of three hours and he could use a change of clothes too. As much as he liked the outdoors, nothing could beat a good burning hot shower to make him feel good as new.   
  
For the next five hours they kept a neck-braking speed at very low altitude, probably scaring the shit out of many farmers in the way, and reached the airport by early morning (damned slow surface cars!). He had read the commander right. He was a straight man and he probably had no reason to fear any double-crossing, but you never knew. He should have stuck to taking contracts like he did before. That was a nice job and he could do it alone and have fun in the process. He was not much of a team player really, hunting was his thing and he would stick to that from now on.   
  
While on their way he pondered. He had recognized the language the commander had spoken: Russian. An odd choice since they were no longer a power, if you didn't count the Russian Mafia. The commander and the troops looked like regular army too, but the uniform was unknown to Victor. The interchange had not been very noticeable in content, only the usual stuff. Yet, one thing had intrigued him:   
  
"--"   
  
"I'm not sure is possible, sir" the commander had cast a quick look in Creed's direction "chance is pretty much spoiled"   
  
"--"   
  
"Yes, like the last time.." he was interrupted.  
  
"--- ---"   
  
"Control word acknowledged. I will keep you posted. Out"   
  
And then the fact that they were there at all. How interesting. Perhaps they were thinking of picking up something else besides the box? Nobody had such a crush on Raims, so it had to be him. But why? He couldn't think of a single reason. Some revenge perhaps? Or they expected to get information from him? Could be.. He didn't remember any dealings with Russians, but then again, he had a memory like a Swiss cheese. He shook his head in frustration. Damned bastards! He couldn't even trust what he DID remember after all the tampering. He would have to do some digging on this one. He had been lucky in the fact that they wanted the box more than they wanted him.   
  
Raims was still shaking slightly. By what he had felt, he figured it had been quite a test for the old mercenary and he chuckled. Raims was so tired he had no energy to mind Creed and just passed out in his seat.   
  
Victor was in one of his foulest moods, but the shock of Fear's attack had taken its toll in energy from his body too and he was tired. This was a sensation he was not used to, specially after so little action by his standards. He considered throwing Raims out of the craft altogether and continue alone, but dismissed the idea. Raims was a good contact and he could be useful in the future. He would get his fun elsewhere.   
  
========   
  
After leaving the box in the locker at the airport, Victor went wondering about in search of a suitable bag to deposit the bug that was stuck to the infamous box and ended dropping it into a bunch of cases belonging to a group of nuns. He smiled at them and they regarded him with some apprehension, but everything went smoothly.   
  
He was on his way back to check-in line when he saw him, or better said, he smelled him. With a growl that startled the people around him he started off and followed the retreating man. He was wearing a cloaking device that made him look a normal businessman, but that sort of things never fooled Victor Creed's nose. He followed the man to the outside and into the city where he finally stopped at a somber looking house in the suburbs immediate to the airport.   
  
It was a bright morning but this was a quiet area and there were very few people in the street. In the house, the windows were closed and so were the curtains and there seemed to be no movement inside. He approached the high metal fence and casually strolled along the front of the house. When he was sure not to be seen he jumped the fence effortlessly and made to the side of the house in a flash, and then the to the back. He couldn't sense movement at all and that made him nervous.   
  
Victor gingerly approached the back door sniffing and was puzzled to find no scent of humans or mutants, recent ones that is. *Aw, shit! I'm going to have to go in* he thought and he tried the knob. To his surprise it was open and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He sensed at once there was something very wrong in this situation and he crouched, waiting. Nothing happened.  
  
The faintest of clicking sound reached his ears, the sound strangely familiar and his eyes now opened in surprise. *Hypodermic gun?* then he bolted up and into the next house's back garden in a clean jump. As soon as he came down the whole place burst out with armored soldiers. *STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!!* he kept repeating to himself.   
  
He managed to dodge the first five darts and, cornered and outnumbered, made another jump falling right in the middle of a group of them. He managed to crush one chest, armor and all, and to slash at another soldier, his claws hooking in his jawbone and ripping it out completely, then he charged the remaining four, but before he could make any serious dismembering he had around 30 or 40 more darts in and everything went into slow motion and then he closed his eyes and slumped to the ground.   
  
He could hear the voices around him, frantic and horrified. *Oh my god! Look at Miller, for fuck's sake!* Heavy booted feet stomping around him. *Get the medic here, NOW! * - *There is no point, commander*. They had got close enough, his healing factor had managed to counteract some of the narcotic and Victor prepared to act.   
  
*How many doses did he get* the commander's voice asked.   
  
*About forty*   
  
*You, you and you. Another twenty a piece, NOW!*   
  
He had started his jump and the multitude of darts hit him like hale coming from everywhere. He fell to the floor with a heavy thud and everything went black.   
  
=======   
  
The present.   
  
=======   
  
*You mean, you never even tried to find out what was in the box?*   
  
*No*   
  
*Not even a peak?*   
  
*No* Raims looked at her bewildered expression. She didn't understand the rules of the game. As long as they kept their part of the bargain they would have no problems. If they had messed up like that they would have never worked again.   
  
*But who would've known?* she insisted, hands in hips, defiant.   
  
*They would have known. Look, I don't have time for this now. I have to go* he said folding his last piece of clothing and closing the duffel bag.  
  
She put her arms around him and kissed him. He kissed her back coldly. It was time for this to end, he thought, this expedition was a perfect excuse. He would be gone for some time and when he came back he would just move on. She didn't know enough to be a threat to him and if she did blabber about she was the only one bound to get hurt and she knew it. It had been a nice couple of months but it was very much over on his side.  
  
He came down the stairs by himself and went out the door. There was a red sport vehicle outside and everyone on the block was admiring it. A real classic, very flashy, and he sighed in frustration. *Nice car* he said fighting back what he really wanted to say, and he climbed, the image of resignation, on the seat next to Creed who was grinning widely. Like there was a hope in hell they would go unnoticed...   
  
To his relief, their first stop was Creed's private parking where they picked up a nondescript vehicle. They made a stop to get their travelling cards done and then headed for the airport.   
  
======   
  
*You've got to be kidding me!*   
  
*Creed, Foster looks like shit but is quite capable*   
  
The scrawny bespectacled young man was gaping in awe at Victor and barely blinked at the "shit" qualification of his looks. Victor growled down at him (he was a good foot and a half taller) and Foster shrank, still open-mouthed.   
  
*He looks like a moron to me!*   
  
*My IQ happens to be over 150, you know* the man replied, and then gulped as Victor turned to glare at him, shrinking even more.   
  
*Creed, believe me, I have used them before and they are good value for money*   
  
*They? What do you mean "they"?*   
  
*They work in combination, one in their base and one on site*   
  
*WHAT?!*   
  
*Creed, just have a little patience and they will show you how good they are. I assure you, it will be fine, they are the best at not being traced so there will be no problem in having them connected*   
  
*..... *   
  
*We are already here, man. You might as well give it a try.*   
  
*.....*   
  
*Mr Creed, we can be of use to you in a huge variety of jobs, you'll see* Foster put in *Research? You have any system you want infiltrated, corrupted or erased? Tracking? We are the best at that too...*   
  
*And I'm supposed to baby-sit you, or are you a jungle expert as well? I DIDN'T THINK SO! * he snarled as Foster lowered his eyes.  
  
*Creed, believe me. It will be worth it...*   
  
Foster also made a last desperate attempt *Mr. Creed, by the information Mr Raims already gave me and after some research, I can assure you this job is going to be hugely worth everybody's while, and we are the only ones...*   
  
*You are very sure of yourself, little man. You are not the only nerd in the planet!* he sneered.   
  
*I AM NOT A NERD!* the small man shouted, suddenly standing erect, and Victor's claws made an appearance. *I'm sorry, Mr Creed* he said meekly, flinching *but you will see, you will be very satisfied with our job. I promise you*.   
  
Victor had been surprised and amused by the punk's outburst. In spite of the strange setting of the job he was also disposed to believe them. He regarded Foster with contempt. The man looked like a rat, teeth and all. But then, in his experience, the worse they looked, the more intelligent they were. He snorted again in disgust as both men stared at him in hope, and then capitulated.   
  
*OK* he said rolling his eyes *let's get this fucking job over-with.*   
  
===========   
  
END OF CHAPTER TWO  



	3. Chapter Three

CAGED SOULS - CHAPTER THREE   
Discl: None of the known characters are mine, but Marvel's. No money.   
Char: Sabretooth and others.   
In short: Life as a Mercenary and the beginning of a beautiful enmity, as always.   
Rating: mmm.. -language and violence.   
  
And the third one. This is a shorter but I had a brainstorm on Tuesday and managed to put it all down in writing. Mind you, I never thought I would get this far without tangling myself (and poor Vic) in some dead end situation. Enjoy (hopefully) and PLEASE REVIEW.  
  
========   
  
Hunting again in the rainforest. Ahh! This was the life! Victor could never get over the stench of men and their cities, his heightened senses refused to become accustomed. It must be all that shit they eat, he thought. He breathed deeply. This place, on the other side, made him feel completely renewed in body and soul. The clean, cold misty air, plenty of game, clear water, and no humans. He caught himself smiling.   
  
If not for anything else, this was reason enough to make the trip, he thought. They had been in the jungle for two days and homing in to the location of the bunker. He figured they were about three days from the place. It would have been about half the time for him, but he had to account for Raims who was slower than him (well, everybody was slower than him), and for Foster who had managed to stumble in every single branch and fall in every single hole in their way, as if he had an in-built tracking device, and generally made a nuisance of himself. The only thing that had kept him alive, even though Victor had had claws half out most of the time, was the fact that the little rat had proved to be a bottomless well of information and that was something Creed valued way over his need for fun or peace.  
  
They had started their trek at a minor airport by the end of the jagged line of the Chilean cost, way down south near the glaciers, and worked their way to the jungle by foot to avoid being noticed, which had taken them three days. Technology in the last 3 hundred years had developed a lot of means of transport which avoided detection, but of course it had also provided the counterpart, so they were basically back to square one, sort of speak, and had to do this the old way. Not that Victor minded. Except for the timeframe, he enjoyed and welcomed physical tasks as they formed most of his normal "workout" to keep fit. He actually preferred it this way because he believed real situations were far more effective to tune body and senses than artificial ones.  
  
He was a well developed man, and even though his healing factor got rid of most of the insidious toxins he (or others) put in it, he generally preferred a very natural diet: mostly fresh meat and some vegetables and fruit, all of it raw. Not that he didn't enjoy fine cuisine, which he certainly did, but that was something he did as an exception to treat himself, which didn't happen often on account of his status of "most wanted" by authorities almost worldwide. Being an international assassin among other things had its downside. The only exception to this was alcohol which he drank gallons of and never had any effect on him, a fact that annoyed him greatly.   
  
He had a blurred flashback of a drinking contest, swelling with rage as he recognized the opponent: Logan. Where? When? Real memory or implant? As always when he thought of the runt his anger surged and his reason went haywire and he slashed in rage at a tree nearby and then another and then another until the anger wore off a few minutes later, resulting in a wide circle of destruction around him. He pushed all thoughts of Wolverine and his old times aside, and calmed down.   
  
Fortunately he had already eaten his hunt of the day because all living things around him had scurried off or flown away at top speed as soon as his outburst had begun . He tried to shake the last remains of reminiscence away as he started back to the camp and failed. Passing visions of uniforms, armored suits, visors, they all flashed into his mind and he could almost feel them on for an instant. Bits of conversation too or shouting and, over all the rest, scents of burning flesh, scents of blood, scents of gun lube, scents of fear, then nothing. He sighed and concentrated, trying to catch a glimpse of recognizable reality in any of those memories, something to tell him for sure that they were his, but to no avail. No amount of concentration had helped him so far and he would have to leave it at that stage for the time being.  
  
His mind continued wandering and stopped at his last contact with Fear, almost a year ago in this same part of the world.   
  
========   
  
A year earlier  
  
=========  
  
He came back to conscience only partially and noticed it was dark and cold around him. In spite of the general numbness of his body he could feel cold stone against his chest and cheek. He realized he was lying on the floor, probably on a cellar or basement, and he had been stripped of his shirt and shoes. His hands and feet felt contained and he guessed hard metal. Making an effort he managed to move slightly and recognized the feel of strong ankle and wrist restraints. His hands were also bound into fists with metal straps. *Great* he thought.   
  
His mind started to clear to some extent and the happenings of earlier came back to him. There had been no scents to warn him, so they were wearing phenomonal inhibitors. And he had fallen for their trap like a baby following candy trail. He could kick himself for being so stupid. Very, very sloppy, Victor, you're getting old, he thought with an inner growl of anger.   
  
His fine hearing picked up some conversation from outside the room.   
*What's the reading?* a commanding voice was asking.  
  
*Alive, sir and coping with a huge amount of sedative* a second voice said and then a soft whistle. *a HUGE amount, sir*.  
  
*Dosage?*   
  
*40 doses an hour just to keep him under*  
  
*We don't have enough sedative stored to keep this up commander* put in a third voice, concern showing in his tone. *We'll have to call one of the warriors to handle him, and very soon too*   
  
*Let's hope they send us one of the sane ones..* the other subaltern voice added.   
  
*Enough* the commanding voice was admonitory and hard. *Put the dosage at 50 an hour and keep an eye in the reading. If it gets anywhere near conscious, hit him with an extra 20 doses and call me*. Victor heard his firm step for a while until they faded in the distance.  
  
*I just can't understand why they would want this guy anyway. Way too dangerous if you ask me* first voice muttered *did you see what he did to the German guy in the third unit? The stuff nightmares are made of, man!*  
  
Second voice was more relaxed or knew more *We are not keeping him. Key the entry in, his readings are getting higher* and then darkness came again.   
  
==   
  
The second time he came around he found himself recovering at great speed. Good, it meant they had either run out of sedative or suspended it. He lay down motionless gathering energy for his next move. He was still in the stone room and he could feel now a needle connected to his artery in the neck, where a collar was tight but not enough to suffocate him. He opened his eyes and in the dim light let in by a tiny window he got his bearings. The room was not too big but big enough for a man to stand close to the walls out of his reach. He was secured to the wall with a small length of a thick chain, hand and feet. The collar around his neck had a line of tube hooked to a dispenser unit on the wall.   
  
Completely conscious now, he took in deeply, catching the scent of three men just outside the door. There was a lot of fear there and he smiled inwardly thinking he still had the touch. The door opened and two of them came in very cautiously. Victor closed his eyes and waited.  
  
*He should be semi-conscious now* one of them said.   
  
As the other was about to answer, in one fluid movement Victor pushed himself back toward the wall and launched himself with all his might at them, roaring. He saw their eyes widen in sheer terror. His momentum snapped the chains and caused the bolts in the wall and the coupling on the bracelets to give a few millimeters and he almost got a bite-full of the first man. The soldier fell on his back screaming in terror, then flipped over frantically and retreated in all four whimpering. The second man had been right behind the first and had made a jump back that would have won an Olympic medal, panting through clenched teeth. Victor grinned his ugly killing grin.  
  
*WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!* boomed an authoritarian voice just outside in the corridor and a commanding officer came into view as Victor was lashing out for the second time. He was well beyond reach so he had the guts to play the fearless leader. *You were supposed to prepare him for travel and for the warrior to handle, you idiots, not to get him on this state!* he screamed in a high pitched that betrayed his true level of courage.  
  
Victor had bounced back and hurled himself out again with incredible force, causing the bolts to loosen a few millimeters more with a loud snap. His roaring was deafening and bounced off the walls reverberating all over the place. The sedation line had come loose and was dripping on the floor. A couple more thrusts and he would get the chains free from the wall, and even without the use of his claws he could deal with the three soldiers without even breaking into a sweat. His neck was bruised and bloody, as well as his ankles and wrists, but he almost didn't feel the pain. The huge surge of adrenaline and his inner rage had gotten the best of him and he was on pure instinct now, lashing out wildly, only one thing on his mind: get loose and kill.   
  
*Just hold him until the warrior gets here, for fuck's sake!* the commander shouted in visible panic, *Where the hell are those two idiots with the hypo-guns?*   
  
*No more doses, sir, we've used them all on him already, we were expecting the warrior an hour ago!* the first man shouted to be heard over Victor's roaring. He tried to reach the door to close it, but the door opened to the inside and that put his arm into Creed's range.  
  
The commander touched his comm and looked straight at Victor. He saw relief in the man's eyes and suspicion crept into his mind. He launched himself frantically out again, his instinct telling him there was no time left, and there was another snap, bolts almost out of the wall. As he bounced back and landed on the wall to thrust out the fifth time he was hit by pain and immediately recognized the signature. He fell to the floor and the familiar wave of nausea and fear exploded in him. The level was unbearable this time and he curled up and screamed in terror. Wave after wave of pain and fear washed over him leaving him shaking and unable to move, his mind frantically trying to cope with the horrible sensation, but to no avail, and he instinctively curled up into a ball.  
  
As the first shock wore off he managed to turn his face to the door, where he heard the voices of the soldiers as if in a dream. He managed to clench his teeth and kept an enraged and fearful moaning instead of the shouting. At the door was Fear, robe-clad as always, her face a cold mask where only a glimpse of recognition had crept for a split second. The soldiers were covered in sweat and so was the commander, but they had regained their composure and the commander was bowing to the woman.   
  
*Put him in the shuttle* she said, and left.   
  
The three men grabbed him and hurriedly put him on a hover-pallet. He tried desperately to regain control of his movements, but he was still very much in Fear's grasp and shaking in terror and pain, completely at their mercy. A man stood by his feet maneuvering the hover-pallet into the corridor and then into an elevator to the outside. As they came out in the open he realized he was in a different location from the house where they had captured him (they had probably moved him while drugged). He saw Fear again standing by a small shuttle. Crimson was slowly rising within him and rage was competing with fear. He caught another glimpse of her strange eyes but then he was moved and stowed into the open shuttlecraft and he lost sight of her.   
  
As his healing factor adapted to the levels of pain and fear, new waves hit him with excruciating results. He closed his eyes and roared once more, realizing in a blur that he was being rolled off from the pallet and towards one of the inner walls of the shuttlecraft. His chains were reduced to a feet or so in length and secured to the wall, and then the soldiers started to get in. A trooper with a massive hypo-gun and a device he assumed to be a taser sat next to him, so close he could almost grab his heavy booted feet. Fear also sat on his line of view but further away, looking at him intently. He had managed to keep his teeth clenched and a low moaning.  
  
The shuttlecraft took off and he figured they were going at very high speed, judging from the screaming engines. The man sitting close to him put the hypo-gun to his neck and made a round of shots with it, half numbing Victor, then the pain and the fear stopped abruptly. As he realized he had been released from Fear's grip he lay down motionless, hoping there would be a window of opportunity, but the man put the hypo-gun against his throat again to give him another round, then something odd happened. The man flinched almost imperceptibly and retreated, then leveled the gun again, but it was too late.   
  
Still half numb but in full possession of his faculties, Victor used the wall as platform once again and hurled himself forward across the floor with all the might that his rage could gather, coming loose and carrying a piece of the wall together with the chains and knocking over everyone on his way. He ended up against the other wall by the door lock panel and he went for it. Mayhem all around was caused by the sudden depressurization, and knowing he could not reach Fear before she hit him again, as two men obstaculised him, he jumped out and fell into the void. The last thing he saw before going out was Fear herself, sitting on the floor, her eyes half open staring at him with a strange intensity. As he went through the door his jaw dropped in surprise and realization.   
  
He fell for long minutes amidst torrential rain and finally hit bottom, realizing with surprise and relief that they had been flying over the sea. He went under for ages and then floated back up, his lungs almost exploding as he reached the surface of the water. He could feel his ribs broken and all his body bruised, probably a lot of internal bleeding as well. Luckily it seemed they had not been very high and that had saved his life. He floated on his back and struggled to keep his head clear of the water, exhausted, hoping there were no sharks around. The was a big storm building rapidly all around him, which was good news because it meant that the shuttle would not be able to either come for him nor trace him. The bad news was that he was in shit shape and very likely to drown miserably. *Been worse* he thought, trying to keep his optimism alive.  
  
His hand were still bound and he pushed against the straps and then the bracelets with his feet, braking a few bones in the process but finally getting rid of them. He didn't have the energy to try and get rid of the collar and anklets and left them there for later.  
  
As he struggled to keep afloat in the growing storm, a darker shadow came into view and he realized a ship was within reach. Frantically using the last of his energy, he fought back the pain and started swimming jerkily towards it. If he was lucky they would pick him up and, being in the middle of a storm, they would not be able to communicate his rescue to anyone until he could arrange for this never to be known.   
  
==  
  
Huge waves towering around his ship, the captain and crew were completely blinded by the wall of water coming down. Except for the captain himself and the navigator, they were too busy trying to keep the cargo intact to notice anything besides that. The captain, however, worrying that the pounding waves would loosen up some of the apparel secured to the decks, was keeping an eye just in case. As the ship dove down a mass of water washed its deck in a huge cataract, leaving something big behind that crushed into the deck with a big thud. *A walrus, or perhaps a sea lion?* the captain thought. *That would be a story worth telling* he figured with a smile, then the smile froze as he saw the figure claw out to grab a metal rail before the next avalanche of water could take it away and his heart shrank in ill omen.  
  
========  
  
END OF CHAPTER THREE  
  



	4. Chapter Four

CAGED SOULS - CHAPTER FOUR  
  
Discl: None of the known characters are mine, but Marvel's. No money.   
Char: Sabretooth and others.   
Timeline: None (I suppose you could call it Bolt's AU). Happening circa 2300. All characters apply, just in a more real timeframe starting from our reality.   
In short: Sabretooth - Life as a Mercenary and the beginning of a beautiful enmity.   
Rating: PG 13 - Language and violence.   
  
Four!. I got to chapter four!! Unbelievable, isn't it? You need to read the previous chapters to understand this story. Please be nice and REVIEW :-) You can also write to me to boltlondon@hotmail.com.   
  
  
========   
The present   
=======   
  
At the end of their fourth day in the jungle the three men sat around a small fire, two of them consuming a meagre dinner. It was not raining for a change but it was bitterly cold and both Foster and Raims were wrapped up in their bags. They had built a shelter with branches covered by a sheet of waterproof fabric over bed of leaves and moss also covered by waterproof material, and this was keeping them fairly protected. Creed, on the other hand, was sitting on one of the bags and leaning on a tree, looking up to the green roof completely oblivious of the reigning temperature . His fingers were laced over a knee and his eyes were semi-closed, the picture of relaxation. Raims was laying on his side, his head resting on his hand. Foster shivered in his bag, cold and exhausted, dark circles around his eyes showing the strain the journey had put on him so far. He was talking, as always.   
  
*... all in all it looks mighty suspicious if you ask me*   
  
*Is there any indication of what their intentions are?* said Raims, chewing his beans slowly.   
  
*Nope. They have kept their cards very close to their chests so far, and neither Trevor nor me have been able to find anything in the information highway or in our special sources*. He put his beans down with a grimace.   
  
*Seems we are in for some nasty times*   
  
*What do you think, Mr Creed?* said Foster, turning to look at him.  
  
Victor didn't move but answered a cold *Not interested* that also spelled a menacing -do not disturb-.   
  
Foster swallowed hard. *Yes sir* he said in a small voice but Victor was not fooled by the apparent meekness. Over the past few days the little rat had grown accustomed to his mood and was rather successfully keeping out of his way. He had shown (and smelled of) fear only the first few times Victor had snapped at him, then coldness and calculation had crept into his scent. Creed was surprised at the fact that they were actually getting along quite well.   
  
Victor relaxed again leaning his head back and staring once more at the treetops. In contrast with his apparent lack of interest, he was following the conversation quite closely, his interest aroused by the rat-man's knowledgeable insight. He was not giving it out though, it could give the little shit a hold for manipulation and he certainly didn't want that. As he seemed to become oblivious of the other two, they continued their conversation.   
  
*Not that this is any news to anyone, but they apparently are connected with the old Russian Mafia too* muttered Foster wrapping himself more tightly in his bag and leaning down on his side.   
  
*What spooks me is the alignment, if you know what I mean. Mutants and humans together in the same group? I mean, this has never worked in a permanent basis before*.   
  
*There are only a few "powerful" mutants and they are in top positions, as far as I know*   
  
*Times must be changing* Raims pushed the remains of his meal to the fire and also lay down.   
  
Victor had looked down at the mercenary's last remark. Yeah, times are changing sure enough. He could still remember how it used to be in the old times: fire and blood. He made a conscious effort to keep his mind from wandering back and concentrated on the on-going conversation again.   
  
*Why was the bunker undisturbed until now? Somehow I don't quite believe it could be just luck* continued Raims between yawns.   
  
*Well, Mr Raims, as far as we could find out this was one of the so-called backup bunkers and almost all reference to it was erased from the system as a matter of security* Foster yawned as well and his similitude to a rat was all the more apparent *I suppose the only ones to know where it is are your employers of the time, and they probably had only just got wind of it, or they would have tried something before*.   
  
*How did F have access? Her DNA was recognized*.   
  
*I'm not sure*   
  
*Out with it, Foster!* encouraged Raims.   
  
Foster responded with some apprehension. *We dug deeply in the old files and run in the description of the woman we had from you.*   
  
*Well?*   
  
*Apparently she used to work there and had a legit pass*   
  
Raims looked up. *What!? That was more than a hundred years ago, that's impossible!*   
  
Foster shrugged *It fits in. Besides, we're not talking about a huge amount of time. She could have been put into stasis as were many of those connected (he yawned again) to the battle against the outsider. That could account for her apparent longevity. Now that I think about it, if the woman was "awaken" just recently, then she probably just recently let them know of the existence of the bunker too, and that accounts for the place being undisturbed until now*   
Not impossible, thought Victor, not impossible at all. This confirmed a lot of rumours too.   
  
*But she is not human.. Sorry, she is not normal.. Oh, WHATEVER, you know what I mean!* Raims said in frustration *Creed, you said she wasn't. Besides, they didn't employ mutants on those days, especially not in governmental hush-hush facilities!*   
  
*According to the files she is an old born, before the split, so she has to be a "normal" human.* Foster looked at both men alternatively. *On the other hand, if she was sure to set off the second set of defenses..* he yawned for the umpteenth time.  
  
Raims looked up *Creed?*   
  
Victor lowered his eyes at them *She wasn't lying about that* he stated calmly.  
  
*Well, I don't know what to say to that, this is very confusing* Foster was too tired to think and decided to leave it for later.   
  
Raims gave Creed a look, to which Creed replied with a shrug. *Perhaps we will find out when we get there* said Raims.   
  
Creed knew better but didn't share the information. Two. There were two different scents, as he recalled from their previous encounter with the woman. Perhaps she had acquired some "baggage"? It was not unheard of.   
  
Raims fell asleep instantly and so did Foster. Victor sat alone in the dark, the reflection of soft light from the fire dancing on the wet leaves around him, and he wondered at the beauty of it. He could feel the murmurs of the night creatures and the soft dripping of water and closed his eyes in pleasure.   
  
A wave of sounds and scents came over him in a flashback, triggered by his aroused senses. The scent was hot and thick and carried a remembrance of rapid jolts of pain on his right leg and across his chest in a sweep. The impact shocked him and he felt himself falling back in slow motion into water and sinking in the cool relief, only to be yanked back to the surface by a hairy hand holding on to his shirt's collar.   
  
*No time for swimming, old man!* a toothy grin said, smelling heavily of relief, adrenaline and anger, and he shook his head trying to focus on the man's face. *This is one you owe me, for a change! I guess that makes us even?* "grin" continued while dragging him out of the water and dropping him on his back. The scent of blood, his own, overpowered all others. He heard himself answer a groggy *In your dreams, boy*. Opening his eyes wide he had a blurry vision of a dark haired man towering over him while waves of heat told him his healing factor was kicking in. Another figure came into view, taller and fairer. *We need to get him to a medic pronto* "grin" said to the newcomer and then both crouched as what seemed like a nearby detonation threw a spray of debris over them. Victor shook his head again desperate to overcome the shock and felt the other man's hand pressing down on his chest. *This is really bad, we have to hurry, he must have at least fifty slugs in* and then the vision disappeared. He realized he was panting, his breath coming out between clenched teeth in white shots of condensation.   
  
He opened his eyes and let the cool darkness soothe him. He pushed the memories away with an effort and controlled his breathing. He put his arms around his knees and closed his eyes again trying to relax. The smell of moisture brought him another memory, this time all shadows, and he tensed in sudden anger at the thought of Sinister's lab. He had shred the place to bits before leaving, including every single living thing in it and had also managed to sabotage and destroy all data files, finally setting the place on fire. Nobody benefited from Victor Creed's misery.. NOBODY.   
  
Need to do something to keep my mind occupied, he thought, and decided to use his first watch for hunting. The location was devoid of any major predators (except for him) and his own scent would probably keep most animals away from their camp anyway. In other circumstances he would have been more watchful, but the impenetrability of the vegetation made it impossible for anybody or anything alien to the place to sneak up on them. He sighed heavily and got up, stretching to his full height and arching his back, then started out into the jungle.  
  
=======   
  
The bunker's door was hidden by the moss and leaves that had crawled over it during the past year. They didn't have any problems finding the place, but had hardly recognized it. The circle of destruction around it had completely disappeared as the jungle had reclaimed its ground and there was almost no trace of any human passing. Almost, because Sugar was still there. His bones were knitted into the fabric of moss and lichen covering everything giving the place a surreal look.   
  
Raims felt a cold shiver up his back at the memories this place evoked. They approached the site with caution, their movements slow and their senses alert. Raims looked at Victor and noticed with alarm that his eyes were narrow to a slit and his face showed intense concentration as he paneled their immediate surroundings. His guard went up too in a snap and he stood motionless, waiting for a cue from the other man. Foster was rigid in place.   
  
Victor took two cautious steps forward and crouched, still scanning.   
Without any warning sound Victor flinched and leaped back roaring, startling the other two, who crouched in automatic response. The whole place came alive with birds flying away and small animals leaping from tree to tree in frantic escape. Raims dropped to the floor and shot a round towards the apparent origin of whatever had hit Creed. The latter jumped sideways and disappeared in the vegetation and Raims heard his angry roar nearby, followed by the sound of crashing and branch breaking, then there was complete silence.  
  
After an agonizing five minutes wait they saw him again, coming towards them in an uneven trot, scratching wildly his left shoulder and snarling.   
  
*Rat trap?* Raims asked, still looking around suspiciously.   
  
*Set up very nicely too. Aw FUCK, this itches like HELL!* he roared. *They probably put poison in it! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!*.  
  
Foster approached Victor and looked at his shoulder. Victor was still scratching and snarled back, but Foster got a glimpse of a thin gash under the ripped fabric.   
  
*You reckon this was the only one?* he asked.   
  
*Nobody sets up just ONE rat-trap, you asshole!* Victor breathed deeply to calm down. *OK, fun is over. Let's get down to business.*   
  
=======   
  
The interior of the bunker was pretty much like they saw it the last time, a slick black surface that reflected them over and over again. The bones were there too, undisturbed from the last time they had been there. Foster took out his kit and put on a weird looking glove over his right hand.  
  
*I need silence for this* he said. He took out a muzzle looking apparatus and put it over his mouth *Acknowledge* and his voice came out softer than normal and definitely mechanical *Voice Reckon*   
  
-ACKNOWLEDGED- soft generated voice said, blankly.-CONFIRM VOICE RECKON-   
*Cyanea*   
  
-VOICE RECKON NEGATIVE-   
*Override and proceed with DNA recognition*   
  
-STATE REASON-   
*Accidental loss of voice. Use of mecha-voice*   
  
The screen was lowered from the roof, but Victor noticed a new bright red rim over the doors.   
  
*What the hell is going on?* Said Raims, snapping to a defensive position. Victor chuckled.   
  
Foster removed his mouthpiece *Standard procedure, relax* then put it on again. The screen started to flash a hand shape and Foster put his gloved hand into it. A few seconds passed.   
  
-DNA CONFIRMED-SECONDARY ID REQUIRED-PROCEED WITH CODE PROTOCOL-   
  
Foster stared back towards Raims, eyes wide open. Raims' hair went all up. Oh shit! Foster's expression changed into a sardonic grin and Raims relaxed, glaring back.   
  
*ID 5665-cyanea-0002310 code blue- a few seconds passed.   
  
-WELCOME CYANEA-   
*Voice off*  
  
*How the hell..?* Raims' voice was a mixture of relief and anger at the younger man's prank.   
  
*That is what you are paying me for, isn't it?* Foster started going around along the inner wall with a small device that Raims figured to be a sensor. He placed it in various different sections of the featureless wall and stopped by the human remains, which he kicked out of the way to have clearer access to the section of wall it had been leaning on. *I need some assistance here* he said and Victor started over, being the one closest to him. Raims automatically approached the outer door and stood guard, looking over his shoulder from time to time.   
  
*We can't cut it open or the defense system will be triggered. Take this Mr Creed* he handed a long thin device to Creed *and put it against the meeting point of the wall and the ceiling, just above this point. Good. Now turn it on and keep it there while I put the other one in place* he kneeled down and put a similar apparatus where the wall met the floor. A small light flashed in both devices and there was a loud creaking sound. Two vertical divisions appeared in a meter wide section of the wall, and the panel swelled and combed outwards, leaving a gap of around 25 cm on the sides.   
  
*Power field? Ingenious* was Creed's dry comment.   
  
*Now please push the small blue button to fix it to the ceiling. That's it. You don't need to hold it anymore, Mr Creed* As the huge man stepped back and looked at Foster's handy work with interest the latter went to his bag again and took out a weird looking portable console which he plugged into one of the sockets that the gap had exposed on the wall. *I will need a few minutes* he said and sat down on the floor.   
  
*Step on the gas, boy. We need to be out of here fast!* Creed hissed out to Foster and then approached Raims at the door.   
  
*How long, do you reckon?* Raims asked him.   
  
*Not long. We lost 30 minutes disarming the rat-traps and the kid took five to open the door. They should be here any minute now*   
  
=======   
  
*Are you sure?*  
  
*The first flag went up five minutes ago, sir*   
  
*Are you sure is not another false alarm?*   
  
*The second flag went up two minutes ago. This is not accidental, someone is clearing the place*   
  
*Send a twelve-strong team and keep me posted...wait.. call the praetor and ask for two of the warriors*   
  
The young man looked up at him in disbelief *Two? What are we expecting to find, sir?*   
  
*Bad news, corporal, VERY bad news*   
  
=======   
  
*I see no movement, Creed* said Raims over his shoulder and made quickly across the open door to the other side, but he didn't reach it. Creed heard the blast as he turned from Foster, just to see Raims fly three meters and land heavily on his back, half his right shoulder in shreds and a big burn mark on his chest armor.   
  
*CLOSE THE DOOR!!* he shouted at Foster, who jumped up startled at all the commotion, almost dropping the console.   
  
*But ...*   
  
Creed jumped towards Foster, whose eyes bulged out in terror *SHUT THE FUCK...** he finished the phrase in complete darkness *..ING DOOR!!* It took him a second to adjust to the minimal light coming from the console screen.  
  
They could hear the heavy thump-thumping of rounds being fired at the door in the outside, their echo reverberating all around them, mixed with a wailing sound which Creed identified as the bunker's red-alert siren.  
  
*And turn that siren off! It's driving me nuts!* Foster busied himself and the siren was gone.   
  
*What do we do now?* Foster's voice was shaky.  
  
*Snap out of it punk. You are the genius, find us a way out of this place, and boy.. don't disappoint me*   
  
Raims tried to get up and fell on his back again, shaking. Had he been with any other man he would had stood a chance, but his injury was bad and that was going to slow Creed down in his retreat. This meant Creed's next move was going to be swift and bloody, no discussion and no looking back. His mind raced to find a plausible reason (as per Creed's standard) for him to be spared. When his eyes finally adjusted to the minimal light, he found to his horror that the assassin was right on top of him, looking at his shoulder. He could not make the face, but saw the small glint in the yellow-amber eyes and felt more than saw the cold contempt and his hart stopped.   
  
*Creed?* He tried to speak again, desperately buying time until his mind started working again amidst the pain and the shock.   
  
*Mr Creed* Foster called, and Raims almost cried in relief as Victor went over to see what the other had come up with. *I think I found something* he said frantically.   
  
They heard a faint whooshing sound and a small blue light made evident the small room that the sliding of the hidden door had just made evident. Raims recognized it immediately. Creed looked down at Raims again. Foster came from behind him and kneeled down besides the mercenary.   
  
*Take the pack on my leg, there is a plastic cap there and medicated bandages and help me out of the shirt* Raims said.   
  
*There is no time for that* Victor's cold voice stated as he grabbed Foster by the shoulder to get him out of the way.   
  
*Mr Creed. We are going to need him* Foster said expectantly, looking alternatively at both warriors.   
  
*Creed, I look worse that I feel. Once I get the cap on, I will be as good as new* said Raims in a weak voice.   
  
*Fine. Just do it fast, and you better not be fucking with me, boy* Creed said finally and Foster sighed in relief. Raims knew better. He would have to think of a way to make himself indispensable, and VERY fast too or he would end up like the bunch of bones in the corner.  
  
Foster busied himself with Raims' shoulder and managed a decent bandage, immobilizing Raims' arm to his torso. He also shot him twice with antibiotics and painkillers. They picked up all their gear and then Foster helped Raims up and on to the next room. There was a second screen there, this time on the wall. Foster studied the screen and the walls around it. He finally pushed on a section of it just below the screen and it popped out, showing another plug.   
  
*Mr Raims, keep the panel open while I disconnect my console from the other room* he turned to Creed *Mr Creed, can you keep the door open?*   
  
*No problem* Victor said, leaning on one side of the door frame with his foot on the other side. *Just make it fast*   
  
Foster went under Victor's leg and over the opposite wall to retrieve his console. As soon as he unplugged Victor felt a sharp blow to his back and pressed with all his might to keep the door from closing. Foster ran back and slid under his leg again.   
  
*Don't let go, Mr Creed!* he said hurriedly while plugging the console in again. He put in some instructions and the door seemed to go back in, but only for a second, and then started trying to close again in short intermittent bursts. Foster slid under Victor's leg again to the big man's surprise, and run to the wall. He switched off the bottom device of the force field and started jumping to get to the top one.   
  
*Just leave them, you moron!* shouted Victor between clenched teeth. Foster used the long bottom device as a pole and clicked the top one off and then the release button, and as the apparatus fell in his hand he run towards the door again, sliding under Victor's leg just as the bigger man let go with a grunt and fell into the small room.  
  
Foster sat on the floor again and got busy on his console. Creed looked over his shoulder and could make nothing of what the small man was doing, except that he was looking at a rapid succession of blueprints.  
  
*So?* He asked, and his hot breath on Foster's neck made the latter flinch.   
  
*Well, I jammed the outer door, which will delay them for some time. I think I found our way out too. I need half an hour*   
  
*Wrong. You have five minutes* hissed Victor, his eyes blood injected. He looked down at Raims again and the mercenary froze. Foster, on the other side, was sweating profusely. The combined scent of both men's terror had set Creed off and he was slowly giving in to rage. In his last remaining shred of rationality he pondered his chances against the attackers outside and smiled inwardly. There was no chance in hell Victor Creed was going to finish his life like a rat trapped in a hole.   
  
*Got it!* shouted Foster, relief oozing from him thick as molasses. He smiled wildly at Creed *and you are going to like this...*   
  
==========   
  
END OF CHAPTER FOUR  
  



	5. Chapter Five

Caged Souls - CHAPTER FIVE  
Discl: You know the drill.  
Char: Sabretooth and co, and enter Logan and the X-men and co.  
  
  
= = =   
  
*Blast the damned door!* the commander shouted to his men *and don't waste any more ammunition!*  
  
Two robed figures stood behind him. The tallest one made a gesture of impatience and the commander turned towards him.  
  
*I'm sorry, sir..*  
  
*You will be even sorrier when we get back. Your move was incredibly stupid and left us completely empty-handed, you moron!*  
  
*But sir, YOU ordered us...*  
  
*No matter. You deal with this. I'm off.*  
  
*Stay* the smaller figure said and the word froze the other two. The commander gave the figure a fast glance and lowered his eyes at the sight of Fear's cold and strange blue eyes, just visible under the hood.  
  
*What shall we do?* the commander asked, bowing.  
  
*Step aside* she said as she started towards the door. She took out of her bag a small key and the commander gave the order to move back fifty meters. Everybody sprang to action.  
  
*Why?* the taller figure asked contemptuously.  
  
Fear turned around and gave him and ugly tight-lipped smile.  
  
= = =   
Westchester - The Xavier mansion  
= = =   
  
*He WHAT?!*  
  
*Scott....*  
  
*You mean to tell me that he just picked up and left?!*  
  
*Scott, you must understand....*  
  
*O yes, I DO understand! Only I've had enough of this!*  
  
*What do you mean?*  
  
*I mean that since he cannot be trusted to show any respect for us, then I have no choice*  
  
*Scott!!*  
  
Scott Summers looked down at his wife and she could feel his anger even without their mental link.  
  
*Scott, please let me try one more time. I know there must be a good reason...* Summers didn't let her finish.  
  
*What would be the point? This is it, Jean. I'm leaving him out of the group on a permanent basis*  
  
*Scott, please! He is an important member of our team!*  
  
*Well, he surely has shown that he cares about that, hasn't he?* his voice was full of sarcasm.   
  
*Scott? * She pleaded again, her hand on his arm.  
  
He could not stay mad at his wife *OK. You have ONE shot at this, Jean*   
  
= = =   
  
*Logan?*  
  
*Yes, Jeanie?*  
  
*Where are you, Logan?*  
  
*Just a few miles from the mansion.* He didn't say it, but she could feel he was on his way, probably for a long time.  
  
*We need to talk, Logan. And I mean face to face*  
  
*Sound mighty serious. Anything wrong?*  
  
*Just meet me at "Barneys" at seven this evening*  
  
*Been a long time, Jeanie*  
  
*No, Logan. I am not in the mood for fencing. Please meet me there*  
  
*Sure, darling*  
  
= = =   
  
Jean Grey entered the small bar and waited a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. She spotted Logan sitting at a table in the darkest booth in the place holding a beer in his hands. He looked up and she was startled at the hardness in his eyes. She went over his table, ignoring a few whistles in her way and sat down in front of him.  
  
*So, darling. What is it that can't possibly wait?* he said with a cold grin. His voice was soft but his eyes were still hard.  
  
*You've gone too far this time, Logan. After all the talking of the last days you just left as if nothing had been said. You are quite out of line and I want an explanation*  
  
*??...*  
  
*Don't play dumb with me, Logan. This has been going on for just about enough and Scott has every right..*  
  
*Aw, don't tell me. One-eye made a tantrum...*  
  
*ENOUGH!*   
  
Logan stared in amazement.  
  
*I said enough!* repeated Jean in a calmer tone which hadn't lost its hard edge.  
  
*I can't believe you are taking his side in this..*  
  
*And you believe, in your arrogance, that I should side with you?*  
  
Logan lowered his head, suddenly calm again.  
  
*I didn't mean it that way Jeanie. He is your husband and you owe him your loyalty..* she didn't let him finish.  
  
*I don't "owe" him my loyalty. You seem to forget that I love my husband and he has my loyalty because that is who I am and that is what he deserves*  
  
*I'm sorry darling* he said softly.  
  
*Now I would like to know why, after all that we've talked over the last few days and what everybody has tried to do for you, you just left without even saying goodbye*  
  
Logan sighed heavily and raised his eyes.  
  
*I just can't help it, darling. I need to keep moving. I'm not the kind that stays* There was deep sadness in his voice.  
  
*I wonder, Logan* she said, her tone angry. *I wonder if you can't help it or won't*  
  
*Whatever you say, Jeanie*  
  
*No Logan, not this time. Scott has given me one more chance to speak to you before he throws you out of the X-men. I need a reason from you, not to be dismissed like a child. I don't deserve that from you. None of us deserves that from you.*  
  
*That goes for me too* said a contralto voice right behind him.  
  
*Ro, darling*  
  
*Is time you stopped running, my friend, or are you afraid?*  
  
Logan snapped up with a ferocious snarl only to find Ororo's cold eyes.  
  
*Everyone has to choose his own way. You can't do it for me, girl. And I need to go now*  
  
*Aren't you even going to tell us why? Is that how much we mean to you?* said Jean.  
  
*I just have to go* he replied stubbornly, lowering his eyes again.  
  
*Goodbye, Logan* sighed Jean, her voice full of pain and regret. She stood up and went out the door without a look back. Ororo put her hand on Logan's shoulder, but he didn't even let her start.  
  
*Don't hang around Ro* he said *I won't be a pleasant sight for a while*  
  
*I feel so sorry for you, my friend* she answered. *All that you have accomplished, a home, friends, all gone because of your pride. Is it worth it? I sincerely hope so*   
  
Logan stood up and slowly went over to the bar. Ororo left the bar silently.  
  
*A storm is coming* the barman said a few minutes later.  
  
Logan looked over his shoulder to the clouds gathering in the sky, then he let his head sink towards his chest.  
  
*Hard day?*  
  
*The hardest ever, bub*  
  
========  
  
After a long walk in the parks surrounding the Xavier mansion Jean entered the control room in search of a place to sit down and be alone. Unfortunately somebody else had thought of it first. The robed figure sat in one of the chairs staring at the monitors, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
*Hello dear* she said in a whisper. He turned around to look at her and she could see the bitter twist of his mouth.  
  
*So?* he asked. She lowered her head and he snorted in anger.   
  
*Well, that's a surprise* he said. Then, noticing the pain in her face his voice changed. *Don't be sad, darling* He got up and went over to his wife and held her tight. *I had hoped that he would at least tell you why, but it seems that I was right after all* he murmured as he kissed her hair.  
  
*Oh, Scott. I just can't understand it.*  
  
*I know this is going to be distressing for everyone, but I must do it sweetheart. Some of the team will probably think I do this out of personal reasons and they would be wrong. The truth is that this is a command decision I have been postponing for a long time on account of your feelings and that is not fair to the rest of the group*  
  
Henry McCoy entered the room. *What decision is that, fearless leader?*  
  
*I am taking Logan out of the team*  
  
*Oh. This is most sad* the blue man replied *I can't say I'm surprised though especially after our last mission. I have to confess, however, that I don't see how are we going to replace him. He is, after all, the tough and edgy part of this group, and every group needs one* he said while giving Scott a hopeful look.  
  
*We will have to do without him, Hank. We cannot risk another failure and I am not willing to have the group disrupted and Jubilee's heart broken every time he decides to up and leave*  
  
*What did the professor say*  
  
*He agrees with me, not that I was going to change my mind over his disapproval*  
  
Rogue had entered the room as Scott was finishing his sentence and she sat down besides Hank. *Is this about Logan? I heard some of your conversation from the corridor* she asked softly and Hank nodded.  
  
She sighed heavily *It feels like an important part of our lives is come to an end, you know?* Her sad voice made Jean look up. *It will never be the same without him*  
  
= = =  
The bunker in the Patagonian jungle  
= = =   
  
*This better be incredibly good, PUNK!* Creed snarled baring his teeth.  
  
*Oh, it is!* Foster was hugely excited and all fear had disappeared from his scent, which calmed Creed down a bit. *I had my suspicions about this place and I was right! This is not only a primary information vault, as your "Fear" probably thinks (she was only a data entry worker here, after all) it has another two levels and is huge!*  
  
*I STILL DON'T SEE HOW THAT IS SO FUCKING GREAT!* Creed roared, advancing one more step towards him.  
  
Foster was not impressed and continued *The great thing is that this place also has two different escape routes* he didn't say he had stumbled on that information by pure chance and out of sheer terror *and we can very possibly fake our exit to one and then blow the whole first level up, leaving us with a second UNKNOWN private entry to this place to do our diggings at complete ease!* He smiled expectantly to Creed and the big man stopped on his tracks.  
  
*Do you think this will fool them?* asked Raims.  
  
*Oh yes. We need Mr. Raims to get out through the first escape route and set up the explosives and Mr. Creed and me can go down to the next level, recover what we can and go out the second one.*  
  
*Where does the second back door lead*  
  
*I don't know, but it appears is two kilometers out and close to a village, or at least was when it was built*  
  
Creed examined their options and had to admit that the situation suddenly looked quite promising. He took a few deep breaths and calmed down in a huge effort of pure will power. His mind started working rationally again and he gave the rat-man a sidelong snarl.  
  
*It will work, Mr. Creed, I swear..*  
  
*OK, let's try it* he shoved his supply of charges to Raims' chest and the latter went dead pale *You better get this right, Raims* he said between teeth.  
  
= = =   
One hour later  
= = =  
  
Both men were gaping in amazement. In his wildest dreams Creed could not have imagined this place to exist. They were walking along a corridor made of the same material they had found in the surface, only they could see through the walls. Behind the corridor walls they could see rows and rows of cabinets stretching some hundred meters to either side.   
  
Straight ahead of them they could make another room in the dim blue light. As they reached the end of the corridor they found themselves in a circular vault with high ceilings, which seemed to be around 50 meters across.  
  
*WOW* Foster let escape and his voice reverberated all around.  
  
*What the hell is this?*  
  
*Treasure island, Mr. Creed* Foster replied, his eyes wide in awe.  
  
*And what the hell are those?* Creed said while pointing at a series of casket like devices lined to their right.  
  
*Those must be stasis pods*  
  
*Never mind. Just collect what you can and let's get out of here. I'm sick of playing the mole*  
  
*Sure thing, Mr. Creed* Foster said, and went over one of the walls to plug his console in.  
  
Creed went over the stasis pods and as he approached them he noticed they had small oval windows on one end. The surface was dull and he wiped one of them with his sleeve and took a peek. He could hardly make out the form inside, but their state was unmistakable.  
  
*Bad luck* he said, and chuckled.  
  
His fine hearing caught a gasp from Foster and he looked over. Foster seemed engulfed in what he was doing. The scrawny man had taken another device out of his bag and was putting in and then taking out of it, small clear cubes which he was then storing in his bag.  
  
Creed went over the next three pods and found their occupants to be in the same condition as the first. Bored, he started going along the wall, looking at all the indicators and labels until he found a cabinet of sorts. He grabbed the handle and shook it, without positive results. He thought of breaking it open, but decided against it. There was a sort of bunk further on and he dropped on it with a huff.  
  
He didn't like the place. His experience of bunkers and underground facilities in general had been unfortunate, to say the least. He looked at the roof above him and was surprised to see a nice reproduction of a renaissance painting in it. Somehow it looked quite out of place in the present surroundings.  
  
*How long?* he muttered while putting an arm over his eyes. Foster was so engulfed in his work that didn't hear him. *HOW LONG?!* he roared  
  
Foster nearly jumped out of his skin *Give me an hour, Mr. Creed, and we can take the rest in the next trip*  
  
*One that I will not be making with you*  
  
*If the second door is as anonymous as I think, then there won't be any need*  
  
*Good, wake me up when you're finished*  
  
= = =   
Westchester  
= = =   
  
Two figures were in the control room, even though midnight had come and gone. McCoy was sitting in a chair, rubbing his chin worriedly, his eyes fixed on the main screen.  
  
*From outer space?* Hank asked.  
  
The second figure moved closer to Hank, a faint swooshing sound coming from it *Yes, Hank. The transmission is quite clear but heavily coded* said professor Xavier *I could not deal with it and I'm sorry I woke you up but it seems important that we should*  
  
*Most unusual.... Is not a Shi-ar transmission, is it?*  
  
*No, Hank. Is coming from a completely different direction and the fact that the Shi-ar decoder cannot deal with it worries me*  
  
*I have been scanning nearby space but there is no sign of the transmission coming from any ships around. Or perhaps they can cloak themselves from the Shi-ar technology?* he sighed heavily *another puzzle...*.  
  
*You can say that again*  
  
*Have you consulted any other team like, perhaps the Avengers, just to make sure? After all, we have been heavily relying on Shi-ar technology and perhaps we don't need it for this message*  
  
*Contact them*  
  
Scott entered the room in his pajamas, scratching his head.  
  
*What's going on?* he yawned.  
  
As the professor filled him in, Hank was setting up a four-way videoconference on the screen.  
  
= = =   
Somewhere out in nearby space  
= = =   
  
The man in command stood in front of a holographic plate, which was showing a bright blue ball streaked in white. Two other men were sitting at different stations in the small circular helm, surrounded by smaller versions of holographic displays. By human standards, this man was quite tall, perhaps two meters and more, and his call in life was clearly stated by the armor he wore.  
  
The humanoid eyes were clear pink on white and his skin pale blue. His massive shoulders were covered by the armor in a cascade of scale-like plates of rainbow, a hooded cape hanging from his shoulders from two gemmed brooches. His long raven black hair hang back, held in place by a series of rainbow rings.  
  
Under the armor, which covered him to his knees, a simple skin-tight suit in black going up to his neck and down to his wrists. The general impression was somewhat Roman.  
  
*Are you sure this is the planet, my lord?* one of the minor warriors asked.  
  
*Yes. But the planet has not been subdued yet and that is very strange*  
  
*It was last spotted in this vicinity a year ago, milord*  
  
*Time enough for It to act. This is very strange. Yet, there is no other possibility, it has to be the blue planet*  
  
*We've tried to contact the local forces, but have not received any reply* the other warrior put in.  
  
*Try a less advanced code and limit it to private law enforcement sources* the warrior replied.  
  
*I've found evidence of Shi-ar technology, milord*  
  
*Shi-ar? What would they be doing here?*  
  
*Is just a single source, milord*  
  
*Mmmm... Perhaps a gift to someone special. Let's try a Shi-ar signal that only that special person can pick up*  
  
*Yes, milord*  
  
The warrior started to pace the small space inside the helm; his head hang over his chest and his hands were on his back. He didn't like the idea of interfering in under-developed planets but he had no choice in this occasion.  
  
The Shi-ar technology existing in the planet worried him. Why would the Shi-ar interfere with the development of a planet so far away from their empire? It would have to be addressed and the Shi-ar would have to answer to that.  
  
*Got them, sir*  
  
*Are they answering?*  
  
*Yes, but they are acting very cautiously*  
  
The warrior smiled.  
  
= = =   
Westchester  
= = =   
  
*WOW!* Jubilee's expression summarized everybody's feelings.  
The whole team had gathered in the control room, having come in one at the time in different stages of awakening.  
  
The professor was now in front of the screen, together with Beast, speaking to the strange looking humanoid.  
  
*I understand you are private.. er.. "fighters"? for the cause of control and defense of your planet* the stranger was saying. His lips moved differently to the sounds they were hearing and as he spoke, they could see a collar in his neck blinking.  
  
*Before we answer, we need to know who you are* the professor said calmly.  
  
*My name is Wind-rider. My origins are not to be disclosed to a civilization as young as yours, as per our strict laws of no interference. Suffice to say that I mean no harm to you and my mission is one of recovery of one of our own*  
  
*Is this a rescue mission, then?* Scott chimed in.  
  
The stranger's eyes moved towards Scott and he paused. *No. It is a hunting mission*  
  
*I don't like to participate in "hunting" missions without any background information* Scott replied.  
  
*I don't have time to waste in paranoiac games* the stranger said with a start of impatience. *I have a mission to fulfill in this planet and I would rather do it with the assistance of some discrete local source of law enforcement*  
  
*Come to mama!* whispered Rogue to Storm, who gave her an admonishing look.  
  
The stranger smiled and continued, while Rogue blushed scarlet *I need an answer now, or I will take my quest to somebody else. Of course, I will have to destroy your Shi-ar receiver in order to make my activities the more inconspicuous* he said coldly.  
  
*Well, that is one hell of a goodwill demonstration!* an angry Jubilee spat out before Storm could control her with a shush. *Sheesh!* she continued and slumped down in one of the chairs with a pout.  
  
Wind-rider smiled again and hanged his head. When he raised it again a flicker of amusement shone in his eyes.  
  
*Very well. I understand your concern. I will descend and meet you in your terms. However, should you choose to betray me in any way rest assured that I have power enough to wipe out your entire home, including the underground facilities*  
  
*How did he know that? Isn't that supposed to be disguised by the Shi-ar technology?* Jubilee whispered before another shush from Storm shut her up again.  
  
= = =   
The Patagonian jungle  
= = =   
  
*Well, boy, where to now?* They had come to a bifurcation in the long tunnel and Creed could not tell which one they should take, as they smelled the same: unused.  
  
There was a thin layer of dust covering everything and the air was stale. The tunnel had obviously been made for smaller men than Creed and he had to walk stooping, which was beginning to piss him off. Foster felt lightheaded and couldn't think right. Victor took one look at the man and with a sweep of his arm caught him and slung him over his shoulder, bag and all.  
  
*OK, lets see what's behind door "A" * he said with an angry grin, and took the right tunnel.  
  
He also felt lightheaded and figured his supply of oxygen was running out. In a haze he kept going forward until he found his way blocked by what seemed to be a big rock jammed tight in the tunnel. He let Foster drop from his shoulder to the ground and crouched resting on his massive legs, panting. Amidst the thumping of his heart he was suddenly aware of another sound. He knelt and put his ear to the rock and then smiled.  
  
He took a small explosive charge out of his belt and aided by a knife made a small hole on one side of the rock. After putting the activated charge in place, he made it a few meters back dragging Foster by his shirt collar like a rag.  
  
The explosion was not more than a big bang but had achieved its purpose. After the dust inside the tunnel settled Victor could see that a small opening about the size of a plate had appeared by the side of the rock, and there was a stream of light coming from it.  
  
He went back to the opening, still dragging Foster by the neck, and sat down leaning on the wall taking in the fresh air with delight.  
  
= = =   
  
A huge smoking hole in the rock was all it was left of the bunker's door. The explosion had left a black streak in front of it and big chunks of black smoking material were scattered all around, amidst chunks of charred armors and limbs.  
  
Fear sat down in the grass some twenty meters away, her arm being bandaged by the medic. By her side, the second warrior was in much worse shape, having caught the blast straight on but without the shield Fear wore. He had made it only on account of being a mutant with some TK ability. He was gasping for air, all his ribs having been broken and his skin was badly burned.  
  
The commander of the troops knelt besides Fear with a bow.  
  
*They seemed to have taken an escape route and blasted the whole compound to hell* he said *I think we can pick up their trail if we hurry*  
  
*Just leave it* Fear spat out.  
  
*Excuse me. This is the third time we fail to get hold of the man and the Patrician is not going to be pleased if we just let him go* the commander said and immediately repented as Fear glared back at him.  
  
*Ready* the medic said addressing the commander *any more to go?*  
  
*How about the warrior?*  
  
*He'll make it. Have him transported immediately*  
  
The commander looked around and saw what was left of his unit: in all, 4 out of 12 men, the rest having perished in the blast. He blinked as he realized Fear was still looking at him, then got up and signaled his men.  
  
*Let's move out of here. OK men, get what's left of the gear and get moving!*  
  
= = =   
  
END OF CHAPTER FIVE  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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